Sticks & Stones
by fishiee
Summary: "'A broken god at my door, a broken god begging for no more, a broken god asking if I have a shot gun, a broken god crying when I say I won't give him one,' I sing these words softly as I pluck around on my guitar. A cold feeling swirled in my stomach as I realized for the first in a long time my lyrics aren't about the pain and guilt that has haunted me since my family died."
1. Prologue - Redemption

So Idk, I was laying on the couch last night, watching Pretty Little Liars, and these lyrics came to me. A bit different than my other stories, where I start out with an angry/hurt Loki. Now I'm starting with a depressed/suicidal one. I hope you enjoy it all the same though!

I don't own Avengers and Loki and that general story. I do own Peyton and the lyrics.

**PROLOGUE - REDEMPTION**

_"I'm a monster, a master of a lie, my secrets, are reasons everyone had to die, karma comin' back at me, karma bringin' me to my knees, karma trappin' me, will I ever be free?"_

I live deep in the mountains of North Carolina, on the outskirts of a town where everyone knows everyone and gossip travels faster than wild fire. And though I arrived here three months ago, I am still the talk of the town. I'm a mystery to them. I refused to talk about my past and don't tell _them_ this, but I didn't even give them my real name. Peyton Marshall. My mom would have hated that name- it didn't sound girly enough.

And so I punish myself by telling everyone that's my name. So whenever anyone calls, "Peyton!" from across the street, my heart would constrict with a pinch of pain in reminder. So that I would never forget that the reason why they're gone is my fault.

However, I'm rarely in town. The first day I arrived, I slept on a park bench that night. The next day, the owner of the diner across the street let me rent out the loft above. It's an area stuck in the 1900s. The prices were cheaper, vegetables and meat fresh from the neighboring farms, and, even in 2014, they still had flip cell phones, if they had any.

It was a quiet, quaint family of a town and coming from a big city, it was nice.

Until I moved to the town lines, in the hermit's old house. Apparently he'd been dead for weeks before a man he bought feed from for his horses stopped by. I learned this because I went a week and a half without going in town and a group of people came knocking on my door to make sure I was alive.

I didn't have money problems, thanks to my parent's will, so I didn't need a job. Once a week, I went and bought food to let the locals know I wasn't rotting in my bed. Otherwise it was just me and the horses I took over. They kept me from being too lonely and I just lived everyday working around the house or in the barn, or laying in bed trapped in guilt and longing for my family.

Nights were the worst. Before, nights were spent together. Either watching TV or talking or singing, or close family and friends over. Always laughing. Sometimes my brother and I fought, but never longer than a couple of minutes. We were close, and it was my secret that tore us apart.

Now, my nights consist of sitting on a rug by the fire, alone, writing songs about how I ruined my life.

I couldn't see past ever getting over this. As much as I wanted to end it all, I knew I couldn't. It'd be the easy way out, and my family wouldn't be happy to see me. If I even made it to they were.

And maybe that's why I got so involved with this Loki. Maybe if I could save him, I could save myself. Maybe, just maybe, I could redeem myself. If I changed the heart of this lying, cold blooded murderer, maybe I could earn my way back to my parents good graces. Maybe one day I could be free and look them in the eye again.


	2. Chapter 1 - A Broken God

so hey there! thanks for the couple reviews and followers! I hope you enjoy what I've got coming up. I've got a lot ideas cooking in my head :)

**CHAPTER ONE - A BROKEN GOD**

_"A broken god at my door, a broken god begging for no more, a broken god asking if I have a shot gun, a broken god crying when I say I won't give him one..."_

So my story with Loki starts the evening he appeared in the field beside my house and collapsed to the ground. Watching him from grooming a shiny black gelding's back from a saddle, I quickly grasped a chunk of Midnight's mane and pulled myself over and rode bareback to him.

Loki's long black hair covered his face and I didn't recognize him till I flopped him on his back. His hair fell from his eyes and realizing it was _him_ took my breath away for a moment - took my breath away in terror and shock, as last we heard, he was in fact dead.

Hesitately, I placed two fingers to his neck and I felt a light thump of a pulse. Biting my lip, thoughts flew through my head. Something was wrong with him. He was a god and this one wasn't the god of thunder or Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, or the Allfather, the ones we've heard (rather) good things about. It was _Loki, _the god of mischief. The one who tried to take over Earth and force us into submission, killing so many people.

But he just didn't seem the same, right here right now. We all know Loki's story at this point. Always in the shadow of Thor, always teased, never truly trusted. That could do a thing to a person. A nearly motherly instinct took me over. What if I could fix him? I didn't know how I would, but what if I could... what if I didn't treat him as he deserved to be treated, like so many people do to me? Albeit they didn't know my secrets and I know his... but that just cracked my heart even more.

I think he deserved another chance. I mean, he did aid Thor in saving the world with the Dark Elves... in which he supposedly lost his life. How did he survive? In Asgard's eyes, he was cleared of all charges as he helped save the Nine Realms. Though he had been dead at the time of that declaration... I pressed my fingers to my head, feeling a headache coming on.

What was I going to do anyways? Leave him here or run screaming into town? He was alive, at any given second he could kill me anyways if he saw it fit, and I did, truly want to help him.

Call me a silly girl, but staring at his smooth, currently calm face, I knew I wasn't going to give up on him. Everybody needed someone to believe in them, or if you didn't, life was not a thing worth living.

Making my decision, I grabbed his arms and pulled him up to a standing position. His legs buckled and we almost went down together, but somehow I got a good enough grip to support him. I had him flop on Midnight for a moment, causing the dark horse to sidestep, but I turned around to steady both Loki and him in time.

After a couple of minutes, and running back and forth between each side, pushing and pulling Loki on the horses back, I was leading them to my front stop.

Getting Loki off was easier for the fact he was slowly regaining conscious. When I pulled him down off Midnight, he held on my shoulders, and stood wobbly.

He looked me in the eyes and murmered, "Please."

My face scrunched up in confusion. "Please what?"

"Kill me..." Loki just barely whispered, before collapsing again. On his knees, he said softly, "I don't deserve to live."

I paused a second, taking a breath, before kneeling too. "I can help you," I replied in a hushed tone.

But he shook his head. "I'm beyond help. I've done too much."

"For all the right-wrong reasons," I told him.

"What?"

"The way you were treated, the way you grew up... no wonder why you were so screwed up. Let me show you another way-" I attempted to say, but Loki spoke over me.

"I need to be responsible for my actions-" He started, but I interupted him.

"Then be responsible! Change! Don't do it again! Killing yourself will be not wanting to own up to what you did. It'll be trying to get out of the punishment." I said firmly, making him look me in the eye, but he broke away immediately.

"B-but the things I've done! I-I've seen! I c-can't... I can't live. It haunts me.. it's all I see, the blood, the bodies, the screaming..." Loki choked and tears fell down his face.

I pursed my lips together. This was not the god I've read about, at all.

"You won't feel better after you die. Do you think you forget when you're dead? I don't think so. I think it will always haunt you. But you get the change to redeem yourself. Don't you want that? Don't you want to make your wrongs right, Loki? _Don't you_?" I replied in a low voice, my voice cracking at the last two words. Because I know I do. I nearly looked away as I thought, _and maybe, if he can be redeemed, maybe there's hope for me too_...

Loki took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. I placed a hand on his cheek.

"Let me help you. I... still have hope for you." I smiled gently, and he leaned into my hand.

"You don't mean it... you don't know who I am, you don't know what I've done." Loki exclaimed miserably.

"Well, actually, I studied Norse mythology for a while and the story of Thor coming to Mexico has gone around and we all know what you tried to do before the Avengers stopped you a couple months ago..." I trailed off, realizing what I was saying wasn't a good thing, before quickly adding, "But let's not forget your part in bringing down the Dark Elves."

Loki just stared at me. "Truly how do you know so much?"

I shrugged, but the faces of my parents flashed before my eyes, and I looked away. My hands fiddled with the buttons of my sleeve now.

"You can just try living here, as a human..." I suggested, looking back at him.

His lip curled slightly, but he didn't voice what came across his mind, and as quickly as the lip-curling came, it was gone.

"Then just... live here. As you." I said simply, then blurted out, "But not like people-killing you, please."

Loki closed his eyes. "I don't even know who I am anymore," He admitted with a broken voice. "I just know I hate myself. Please," he started to beg me again with huge eyes, "_Put me out of my misery_."

I shook my head, making up my mind. "No. No more deaths," Pain ripped my heart for a second. "I can save you. I will this time. I won't let you die like I did them."

His eyes were a world of hurt and my words, my omission of what I did, were lost on him. Loki's face fell to his hands. "You're right," he said through his fingers, "You're right." His voice was barely a whisper.

I wish I wasn't.

I wish I wasn't so selfish.

* * *

In my humble little farmhouse, I handed him a hot cup of a coffee and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders. Loki sat crosslegged, staring glossy eyed into my lighted fireplace. I curled up on the couch and watched him silently.

There were no words that needed to be said.

However, not much time past before I was startled by a sudden cry. Breaking from the insides of my mind, I refocused on Loki. His cup rolled beside him and his arms were outstretched. I got up and walked around him. Coffee dripped off his pants, making a small puddle on my wood floors.

"Are you okay?" I asked, pulling Loki up. He felt rigid against me and I dragged him over to the couch. "Loki?" His eyes stared unblinkingly ahead, wide eyed and frozen. I took a step back, at a lost as to what to do.

"Hey," I said softly, climbing beside him. I pulled his stiff body to myself, his head on my chest. "Loki, hear my voice. I need you. I need you back here." I stroked his hair, but he stayed just as taunt. My fingers brushed his cheek and he was ice cold.

I didn't know what to do. What a good job I was doing of saving him. I was going to get nowhere with this. I was doomed.

I closed my eyes and held him tight.

It was no more than fifteen minutes before Loki's body melted against mind. He breathed heavy, shuddering breaths, and I kept my hold on him.

He didn't do anything but lay there, and I didn't let go. A growing feeling of awkwardness was weaving its way through my body. What was I suppose to do? All I've done as of late was drive human company away, not comfort them.

Loki's voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "It's a game now." He straightened up and caught my eyes. "It's a game I can't win." His voice was helpless and just stating a fact.

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly, like if I spoke any louder he'd just shatter.

"He took something from me. Something I acted like I didn't have before. He laughed as they pulled it from me." He sounded hollow.

Loki made me scared to ask what it was, but I did anyway. "What did they take?" I barely breathed.

"My soul."

What he said didn't truly register to me.

"And who took it?"

In a dead voice Loki said, "Thor."

* * *

There was no explanation of Loki's statement about Thor. The god of lies went quiet and spoke no more that night. I placed a blanket over him and left him on the couch. In my room, I got lost in my own thoughts and memories.

Long after the night took over the day, but close to when the light would reclaim what was rightfully his, I broke out my guitar, trying to make sense of my day.

"A broken god at my door, a broken god begging for no more, a broken god asking if I have a shot gun, a broken god crying when I say I won't give him one," I sing these words softly as I pluck around on my guitar. A cold feeling swirled in my stomach as I realized for the first in a long time my lyrics aren't about the pain and guilt that has haunted me since my family died.

So many feelings fought inside me. Would it count if I was halfway doing this for myself? That this broken god gave me hope? Was I an awful person because doing this, made the guilt burning me away simmer down? Why did I even think I could change him, as broken as _I _am? And despite all these thoughts about saving myself, I did actually want to help him. Even all the things he's done, if he feels even a little bit what I feel... I'd want to stop that pain from being in anyone.

All these truths created a war in me.

But I was going to do it anyway. I was going to follow through and help Loki even if it killed me. It was something to do. Something to live for.

What else did I have? Was I going to spend the rest of my life feeding my horses and walking into town once a week to let everyone know I was alive?

I had to fight what I did to my family. I had to fight what lies in me. My deep dark secret. Or maybe one day it will become me.


	3. Chapter 2 - Mirage

Omg y'all, thanks for the faves and follows, and the one review for the first chapter! I appreciate so so so much. I hope you like the next chapter- we're starting to get on Peyton's backstory and her parents and all that good stuff. Let me know what you think please! :)+

**CHAPTER TWO - MIRAGE**

_"I'm just a mirage, look at me like an oasis, but all I am is a black abyss, just a mirage, look at me like a complete puzzle, but all I am pieces of something that use to be beautiful, oh I'm just a mirage, a mirage, a mirage, look at me like I'm cold ice, but all I am is about to shatter like glass..."_

As the sun started to peak its way through ups and downs of my backyard mountains, I softly padded back into the livingroom, checking on Loki. Yesterday nearly felt like a dream, but there he was, sprawled out on my couch. His blanket fell to the floor, and carefully, I placed it back over him.

This morning, under the magic of sleep, his face was smooth and peaceful. Any stress or heartbreak over yesterday was far from his mind, and he almost looked like an innocent little kid. But I knew he wasn't.

My living room opened into the kitchen and I went to start breakfast. I kept glancing over at Loki, but for the next half an hour all he did was sleep quietly. I could hear his soft breath and so when it suddenly picked up into gasps, I was over in a second flat.

His face scrunched up in pain as he let out a cry. "No, please! Stopstopstopstop!" He croaked, voice laced with pain. Loki flinched into the couch and moaned into the cushion. He jerked again and bit his lip, causing blood to suddenly drip down his chin and into his shirt.

I stood there helplessly and in shock for a second. I didn't know what to do; what was I suppose to do!? I've always heard never to wake someone having a nightmare, but not wake them and have them tortured by their sleep, rather than wake them, and what happens?

"Loki!" I bursted out, bending down to shake him. "Loki, wake up!" I shook his shoulder hard and he screamed, before popping terror-filled eyes open. "Loki, it's just me. It's Peyton. It's just me," I whispered, pulling him into my chest. He melted against me, like a toddler waking up from a bad dream, so scared, only wanting to be held tight in someone's arms.

I rocked him back and forth gently, like I would a baby, and murmered, "Shhh, shhh, you're okay."

At some point, Loki pulled away and wiped his sweat leadened (or tear streaked?) face and asked in a broken voice, "What am I going to do?"

I looked him in the eye and answered, "We're going to get your soul back."

He crossed his legs and replied, "But how? Thor took it."

I wondered for a second on how Thor could take it, but how would I honestly know? I used to know people who would... and I was the one who killed them.

"We'll figure something out. I ain't giving up on you," I promised softly. I kept my voice firm and soothing, like I knew I could do this, and as his eyes begged me for proof he could trust me, I tried to harden my expression, to not feeling anything, to give him hope. Though mine was fading fast. However I would hold it together to him- I'd be whole, and his savior, and I will see my parents again because of him.

I was tied together with a smile, but I could never come undone.

* * *

I guided Loki to my library. Filled with my parent's books (or ones I bought again because I ruined them), I never went in here. I never could bring myself. I swallowed hard and acted like I wasn't shattering like glass on the inside.

I could not cry in front of Loki, not anymore, when he's counting on me.

"My parent's knew a lot about Asgard," I admitted, as I made my way to their old journals.

"Why?" Loki asked, but I didn't answer. My hands shook as I picked up one of my dad's leather-bound journals, filled with his scribblings - memories. I placed my palm on the cover. It was worn with use, he was always reading stories to us. The book almost felt alive, I could almost feel a pulse. I closed my eyes for a second.

I put that one back and grabbed the one that wasn't well worn, the leather not cracked, just faded with age. He never read from here. They were scary stories, he told us. He kept this book on a high shelf. One time, my brother and I pulled a chair over and he climbed up, then I did, and got on his shoulders. I still couldn't reach, but I was almost there. I put on foot on Jacob's head and he yelped, "Ow!" I ignored him though, because I was almost there. I had another foot on the shelf and I went on my tip toes, and I could finally reach it! In that moment, my feeting felt secure, so I quickly opened it, and started to read:

_Arianna's face was pale and her eyes wide, but I ignored her obvious nerves. I'd fought worse than this old hag, so how dare she be worried? And even if the witch did cause issue, how dare _she_, for I am brother to the king!_

Jake exclaimed in a whisper, "Stop reading and come down! You're hurting me!" I ignored him again and kept reading:

_Her face was wrinkled and worn like dried jerky. Her hair fell in tangled knots. And her grin was mostly black gum, with just a few brown teeth. The most disgusting, and at the time I would not have admitted this, but terrifying thing about her was her eyes. _

I could barely hear my brother whine my name over my pounding heart. I continued reading with a small gasp:

_Again, would not have admitted this then, but it sucked all the breath out of me in pure terror when I met them for the first time. Or more techically so, her eye sockets. Thick, dark skin covered where her eyes were suppose to be, as if they had been melted away by the sun, and-_I screamed, startling Jake, causing him to drop me. I fell to the ground, covering my head with my arms, and dislocating my shoulder. My mother came rushing in and took me to the hospital and I had nightmares about the witch and refused to listen to another story out of those leather journals ever again.

I didn't realize I'd said that story out loud till Loki replied with wide eyes, "I know the witch you speak of; and I know of Arianna."

I started and snapped, "It was just a story my dad heard. Just a scary story."

He shook his head and replied, "The man was too confident, and the witch too evil. Arianna was told she'd bear two children, as the reason they met with her, but the children were to be cursed-"

"_Enough_," I cut off venomously, "I know the story." I gathered up the journals and shoved them into his chest, "Start looking through these. Maybe something in here will help you."

I bolted out of the room and slammed the door of the bathroom. That wasn't suppose to happen. I was suppose to keep it together. My body trembled. It was all too fresh, what I did, and Loki had heard of Arianna, my _mother_? I pressed my palms to my eyelids. He could never know who I am, what I did.

I couldn't do this- I couldn't break down. I gasped for breath, but focused on calming it. I was about to shatter, but I had to stay there, at the 'about'.

* * *

By the time I saw Loki again, my trembling had made it's way down to a slight hand shake, and he didn't notice.

"Sorry about earlier. The witch in the story terrified me, and you talking about it brought up old feelings," I apologized softly to him.

Loki waved it off and asked, "How did your parents get these journals?"

I shrugged and lied, "A dying man gave them to my dad, and he, the story obsessed, ate them up."

Shaking his head in disbelief, he replied, "All these stories are things _my_ parents and maidservants used to tell me. They fled, never to be seen again, and even Heimdall couldn't see them."

I hesitated, knowing I shouldn't ask, but I bit my lip and did anyways, "The man in this story was your uncle, correct?"

Loki nodded and I had a strange sense of disappointment, but I couldn't pinpoint why.

But then he said, "But only by the sense of relationship, not blood."

"What do you mean?" I asked as my heart lightened a bit.

"My father," He hesitated over those words, "Odin, had two brothers, and they died for him. This man, Thomas, was a servant, and the three brothers had always been rather close to him. After their deaths, he became Odin's best friend was unceremoniously raised from servant to warrior. After many battles and adventures at Odin's side, Thomas fell in love with Arianna, though she was unbearen, no matter what they did. Finally they met with the witch and- well, you said you knew that story."

I nodded silently, taking that in. Why hadn't her father told her that? Had Jake known? I remember refusing hearing stories about Asgard at some point. If I'd kept on listening, would things have turned out the way things did?

There was a long pause, then Loki said, "I didn't find anything of use. That witch died when Thomas disappeared-"

Terror shot through me with that statement. The witch was certainly not dead and her voice echoed through my ears, _I will be back, and sooner then you think. You _will not _get rid of me._

"Peyton?" Loki said my name, breaking me out of my memory, then paused, "That is your name? You haven't introduced yourself."

A small smiled played across my lips, "I guess we hadn't really gotten that far. It is Peyton." My heart constricted at the name and all the times my mother called me inside and Jake whined my name and when my dad got home from work whispered in my head. _Lea... Lea, my love._

"Well, it has been an honor to meet you, Peyton, and I graciously thank you for your hospitality." Loki gave a slight bow and I laughed. A grin formed on his lips, a mischievious one- one I'd expect from the god of mischief. I don't know why it did, though, as we hadn't found anything to help his prediciment.

"You... seem in a better mood," I commented, and immediately wondered if I'd regret saying that.

He shrugged, "Maybe, banished from Asgard, I could find Thomas. He might not be on Midguard, but I have time to search, anywhere and everywhere."

I was speechless for a moment. He wants to find Thomas, my dad I killed myself? I didn't know what to say, or what to do. It was a dead end search.

Oh my gosh, what do I do?

"I think he knew... about me. About what I am. He always understood me," Loki continued on, unaware of my personal crisis.

"Loki..." I started, but when he looked at me, I couldn't say it, "Loki, let's do it. Together. I promised to help you. Let's do it."

Loki's face lit up so bright with hope that without permission my face mirrored his.

Thankfully a plan quickly formed in my mind. Well, a plan of a plan. All I had to do was find a way to get Loki's soul back before he started getting bored of a wild goose chase to find my father.

Easy, right?


End file.
